Faded
by HeavenRose
Summary: Rated for language. Takes place after the movie. Bobby is still blaming himself for Jack's death. Hopefully Angel can help.


**A/N: I do not own _Four Brothers_. This is made to entertain people only.**

**I wasn't sure if I was going to submit this story, because I feel it is a bit rushed and ends abruptly. I apologize for that. **

**This FanFiction is rated 'M' for language. Please review :)**

Bobby Mercer twisted the cap off of the bottle of pills he held in his hand. Angrily, he emptied the bottle into the toilet bowl and flushed it. He tossed the now empty bottle in the trash can and exited the bathroom. He slowly walked down the hallway, dragging his feet.

Angel accidentally bumped into him as he was leaving his bedroom.

"Sorry…" Bobby murmured, brushing past his brother and heading towards the stairs.

Bobby made his way to the kitchen, where he pulled a can of beer out of the refrigerator. He popped it open and proceeded into the living room. He was tired, like always, but didn't feel like sleeping. Then again, he didn't feel like being awake, either.

He sighed and sank down into the plush cushions of the couch, staring at the television but not paying attention to what was happening in the picture. He wanted to fade away.

Angel come down the stairs. He watched Bobby take a long sip of his beer, then set it on the coffee table. "Bobby, what's up with you?" he asked.

Bobby blinked, but didn't respond.

Angel took a seat in the armchair across from his brother. "Did you have another dream about him?" he asked quietly.

"Who are you, a fuckin' therapist?" Bobby snapped, finally making eye contact.

Angel closed his eyes momentarily. He knew Bobby was speaking out of anger and hurt, but it was hard not to get upset with some of his comments.

"You been takin' your meds?"

Bobby clenched his fists. "Oh, so you're Ma now, huh?"

Angel bit his lower lip. "You know I'm just trying to help."

Bobby laughed humorlessly and gulped down more beer. "If you want to know," he said, replacing his beer on the table, "my meds are gone."

"What? You used 'em all already?" Angel asked.

"Fuck no. I mean they're _gone_. I flushed 'em down the toilet."

"What? Why the hell did you do that?"

"'Cause I don't need them."

Angel felt anger boiling up inside of him. "You fucking idiot."

"You're the idiot for making me take them," Bobby muttered.

"You need to take them."

"You need to shut your mouth."

Angel rose from the chair angrily. "What the hell is your problem, Bobby? Huh? What the _hell_ is your problem?"

Bobby sat up straighter. "I don't need to take fucking depression medication!"

"Yes, you do!" Angel cried, voice rising. "Why do you think Jerry and I made you go to the doctor?"

"'Cause you're fucking dumb-asses?" Bobby rose to his feet.

"'Cause we can tell something's wrong with you!" Angel shouted. "'Cause you're our brother!" He attempted to lower his voice, and sighed. "We lost Jack. We're not going to lose you either."

Bobby kicked the side of the coffee table in frustration. "Would you stop talking about him?" he shouted, voice cracking. "Just _stop it_!"

Angel took a deep breath. "It wasn't your fault," he said, calmly. "And you know it."

Bobby gritted his teeth. "How the fuck is it not my fault? I should have been watching him! I should have been able to save him!" His throat tightened with emotion. "I told him… I told him I would always protect him. I _swore_ nothing else bad would ever happen to him!" Tears formed in Bobby's eyes.

If Angel made a list of all the things he hated, seeing Bobby cry would be number one.

"For fuck's sake, Bobby," Angel said, keeping his voice under control. "Jeremiah and I made the same God-damned promise you did. We were his older brothers too, you know."

Bobby set his jaw and clenched his fists. They both stood, staring at each other for about a minute. Bobby let his shoulders drop a little. "Know what? I'm done," he said quietly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his car keys. "I'm done with this shit…"

He exited the living room and made his way to the front door. He grabbed his leather jacket off the coat hanger but didn't put it on.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Angel asked, following Bobby out on the porch.

"I'm done," he repeated. "I'm leaving."

Angel grabbed his arm. "No, you're not."

Bobby twisted away and stomped down the front steps.

"Every time someone mentions Jack, you run off," Angel shouted after him. "Then you go get yourself drunk, or arrested. I'm fucking _sick_ of it, Bobby!"

Bobby continued walking.

"_Bobby_!" Angel cried. He sighed angrily and charged after his brother. He tackled Bobby to the ground and pinned him down.

"What the fuck are you doing, Angel?" Bobby yelled, trying to fight Angel off of him. "Damn it! Get off!"

Bobby pushed Angel off of him, but Angel got right back up and knocked Bobby back into the snow. Bobby's fist connected with Angel's jaw and sent him sprawling on his back.

Angel picked himself up and returned the punch. Bobby fell on his back, and Angel jumped on top of him and pried the car keys from Bobby's hand. Bobby kneed him in the stomach, but not before Angel threw the keys into a snow bank.

Bobby cursed and rolled out from underneath Angel. Both men pulled themselves to their feet.

"What is your _problem_?" Bobby growled, brushing snow off of his shirt.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Bobby could taste blood in his mouth from Angel's forceful blow to his face.

"We all loved Jack," Angel said. "But he isn't coming back, Bobby. And the sooner you figure that out, the sooner you can get on with your life."

Bobby stepped forward, ready to deliver another punch to Angel's face. "Are you saying we should just _forget_ about him?"

Angel stood his ground. "No. You know I didn't mean it like that." He sighed and stared at the ground. "Jack wouldn't want us to be cryin' all the time. He'd want us to be getting on with life. He always hated seeing us cry…"

Bobby kicked at the snow. "I fucking hate him!" Bobby shouted. "I hate him for leaving us here!"

Angel grabbed the front of Bobby's shirt. Without any time for Bobby to react, Angel swung his right fist at Bobby's cheek. Bobby stumbled backwards, but didn't fight back.

"Don't you ever say you hate him, man," Angel said, rubbing his hand. "You don't mean it."

Bobby wiped blood away from the corner of his mouth. He wasn't angry at Angel. He deserved that.

Something caught Bobby's eye. He looked past Angel and saw the lamp post. _The_ lamp post.

Bobby walked past Angel and to the post. He stopped about five feet from it. He stared at the white ground.

He could still see his baby brother laying there, dying. He could still see the red blood on the white snow. He could still see himself pleading with Jack to keep fighting…

"Right here," Bobby murmured when he heard Angel's footsteps behind him. "Right here…" Bobby felt a hand on his shoulder.

"His last words were my name," Bobby recalled, fighting back tears. "He was shouting for me, Angel. He was screaming my name. He _needed_ me."

Angel swallowed, not know what else to say. "It was an accident..."

Bobby dropped to his knees in the snow. "Fuck, Jack," he said softly. "Why'd you have to go? Why couldn't you keep fighting?" A tear slid down his cheek, but he didn't feel like wiping it away.

Bobby looked up at the grey clouds that were threatening to snow. "I remember when he was eleven years old," he said. "I came home for Ma's birthday… And that night he had one of those panic attacks… He came into my room and was crying… And I remember, I took him in my arms and told him no one was ever going to hurt him again. I told him…" A sob escaped Bobby's throat and Angel found himself fighting back tears as well. "I told him that I would protect him. And when I told him that… he stopped crying."

Bobby clenched his fists to keep himself from sobbing.

Angel patted his shoulder. "Let's go inside, man. It's cold out here."

Angel helped Bobby to his feet and the two began to walk slowly back to the house. Bobby looked over his shoulder and took a final look at the lamp post.

"Bobby?" Angel said.

Bobby looked at him.

"You ain't gonna kick my ass for messing up your face, are you?" Angel asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Bobby wiped his eyes and smirked. "No, but I'll kick your ass for losing my car keys."

Angel shook his head and stepped inside the house. Bobby stopped, his hand on the door knob. He craned his neck to get another look at the lamp post.

"Bobby? Coming?" Angel asked from inside the house.

Bobby nodded and stepped inside.


End file.
